


everybody's in love with a fairytale (even though it hurts)

by gustin_puckerman



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Drabble and One Shot Collection, F/M, False Memories, Mind Manipulation, Post-Movie(s), Pre-Movie(s), Red Room, Triggers, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-02-14 08:48:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2185380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gustin_puckerman/pseuds/gustin_puckerman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You’re a mess, James."</p><p>He laughed, and she thought, yeah, maybe he was, but she could adjust to this. She could. James was different, but everybody was, after everything they went through. And she realised this as she picked up his hands, wove their fingers together and memorised the sound of his laughter as it echoed through her ribs.</p><p>(And she thought, my <em>God</em>, was James beautiful.)</p><p>On-going collection of written-out prompts and one-shots I've gotten from Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. things that stop you dreaming

**Author's Note:**

> This is an on-going collection of drabbles and/or one-shots from prompts I've received on Tumblr (under the name of _puckering-gustin_ ). Please take note that this _has_ been posted on my Tumblr and on FFNET as well. All one-shots or/and drabbles are **not** necessarily connected unless stated otherwise. Thank you.

"You're really not a morning person, are you?"

Natasha asked through gritted teeth as she gasped for air, her neck strangled under the weight of his fingertips, later on his palm, while he shifted his wrist and pinned her body in place, her throat caught painfully (;sharply, professionally) in his vice grip, his eyes slanted over the way her jaw clenched, her own eyes reddening.

He lets go of her, gasping, panic setting in.

 _Steve_.

Bucky swallowed a lump in his throat, his whole vision's failing on him, until he shut his eyes and remembered the breathing exercise Dr. Banner had him do whenever he was triggered. _One, two_. Bucky opened his eyes, took a firm step behind and refocused his gaze, though still a bit hazily, directly on her. _She's not a target_ , he reminded himself. She's Steve's friend.

And he's not the Winter Soldier.

"I―I'm sorry." He croaked out hoarsely through a raw throat, felt the ache of the sore as he swallowed, dropping his gaze at _anything_ but at her. There was just something, he thought. Something he couldn't quite figured out about this young woman right in front of him, not since he set his eyes on her figure three nights ago, when she first came into the Tower and Steve had informed him that she's not the enemy, therefore there will be no reason for him to be afraid of her. Or, in another word, _attacked_ her.

Bucky licked his drying lips, sniffling, and heard as she said: "That's okay. You don't mean it, I'm sure."

"You shouldn't be here," he told her with a gruff. No one should. Not even Steve. Not yet, anyway. Bucky's just not ready for that.

"I'm Natasha," she said instead, her voice soft yet clear.

 _Natasha_ , the name echoed in Bucky's head and his stomach twisted. Bucky dared himself to finally lift his chin up, his chest rising and falling back into an increasing speed, his mind reeling badly as his eyes settled back on her ― bright eyes, chapped lips, freshly-bruised throat and long, silky, red hair cascading beautifully down her back, reflecting against the sunlight which was streaming down through the window as the sun began to beam from the outside. And she said, slowly, cautiously, "James, do you remember me?"

Bucky clenched his fist.


	2. of cleanliness and beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cityscapeinview asked: "Cleanliness is next to godliness."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Note** : Set preferably after the events in CA: The Winter Soldier, when (if) they found Bucky. Can be connected to the previous chapter, but most desirably stood as a stand-alone [a one-shot].

"Cleanliness is next to godliness."

"Are you talking about Thor?" Darcy piped in from the space a few feet for them on the couch and both Bucky and Natasha passed their attention to her, who, in return, looked too preoccupied with the television rather than the fact Natasha was openly straddling the former, still-recovering Winter Soldier. "And seriously you guys, I know for a _fact_ you guys will make like, one hell of a porn movie with how hot you two are, and I can seriously vouch for that, but I’m not really in the mood for any kind of exhibitionism.”

Neither older party respond to that and let her be as Bucky slanted his thumb over Natasha’s thigh down to her knee, flicking it, then putting a pressure.The Black Widow stared down at him, returning her full attention to the man she was straddling, and briefly, brought her eyes down to his lips.

“ _Natalia_ ,” he warned, voice raspy and low.

"It’s Natasha," she reminded, not breaking her gaze on his face, noticing the slight bruise aching along his cheekbones, one she once touched a long time ago.

He might have snorted, Natasha wasn’t sure, smirking slightly in that lazy way of his which ticked her off that this man was a man who held multiple personalities, from who he was, who he had become and who he was trying to be ― and was not the same assassin who held her throat when he kissed her, who put a bullet through her flesh just to complete a mission, who gave her everything and nothing at all back when he’d put just enough love and trust into her ― and right now, Natasha wasn’t sure who he was.

"And it’s _Bucky_ , doll.” He drawled, his eyes sharpened.

Natasha resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but she did shove him, “Sam wants you to pick up your trash, James. I suggest you get down to it.” She’s on her feet by then, when she’d heard him chuckling; as she turned around, James smiled, a rare sight, until she realised that this man wasn’t completely the James. The one she fell in love with, the one she kissed secrets to at nights when she was sixteen years old. This was also Bucky. Steve’s best friend.

"So he sent you?" He asked, "Must be desperate."

"Must be," she responded, a hum. "You’re a mess, James."

He laughed, and she thought, yeah, maybe he was, but she could adjust to this. She could. James was different, but everybody was, after everything they went through. And she realised this as she picked up his hands, wove their fingers together and memorised the sound of his laughter as it echoed through her ribs.

(And she thought, my _God_ , was James beautiful.)


	3. puppy love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Anonymous** asked: I'm terrible at thinking of prompts but buckynat fluff would really make my day  & "Maybe that's just what I want you to think" winterwidow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Note** : Set after Captain America: The Winter Soldier, when (or if) Steve finds Bucky. Can be connected with the previous chapter(s), but preferably a stand-alone.
> 
> Featuring Sam, Steve and Maria.

"Maybe that's just what I want you to think."

"What? Don't tell me you don't _like_ these puppies." Sam exclaimed, shocked, while trying to maintain all of the pups that were climbing on him from actually swallowing him whole. Not that, now that Natasha's thinking it through, Sam would have minded based on her judgement. She cocked her head to the side as Sam laughed when a pup licked an area under his jaw, "Look at them! How could you _not_ like them?"

Natasha herself was patting one; it kept on shovelling its small head against her palm, while another one came paddling forward, right to her side. One hand reached for that one too, feeling its fur. "They're so soft."

Sam laughed, and a few seconds later Natasha snapped her head when she heard grass rustling from the entrance of the pound, and immediately locked eyes with Steve, who, behind him, Maria Hill and Bucky Barnes followed.

A dog yipped happily at their arrival and Steve smiled in greeting, while Maria hesitated in her steps and James― Bucky ― _whichever_ seemed careful at stepping forward. Natasha leaped to her feet, grabbing one pup in her hand and cradling it carefully, as all three of them approached.

James met her eyes.

"It's a pup," was all Natasha said when she stood right in front of the still-recovering former Winter Soldier, calculatingly observed the decreasing pattern of bruises across his face. He stared back, perplexed, glancing back from the dog to her.

"I―" He began, unsure (just as he always was― about everything, about Steve, about himself, about _her_ ) while from behind, Natasha heard Maria began sneezing.

"Touch it," she said firmly, yet there's a gentle edge to her tone. Not commanding, not threatening. Just a silent, direct plea, and his bright eyes descended on hers. "It won't bite," she added, then shrugged a shoulder. " _Well_."

James immediately gave her a sharp stare, which quickly dissolved once the pup yipped, catching his attention. Natasha moved to assure it, still presenting it to the man opposite of her, and slowly, James' one hand ― not the metal one ― came and patted its head, down to its body. The pup growled happily, humming perhaps.

"It's _soft_ ," he said, a whisper under his breath.

Natasha nodded her head, contentment washed over her whole body, something that didn't happen often, while James' fingers continued intently, not breaking to pause. "Do you like it?" She asked, and there's child-like curiosity in her tone, but she'll allow it this time, she decided.

Her eyes met his again, and tried as she might, Natasha _was_ holding her breath. He licked his lips, which should have been _illegal_ for him to do, and breathed out: "Yeah. I do."

Natasha smiled, but only a little. "I like it too."

The pup continued to yip.


	4. teas and coffees and superheroes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **danirificruinedme** asked: "You cannot ever have coffee again, you hear me?"

"You cannot ever have coffee again, you hear me?"

Bucky glared at Clint as the archer shifted to the left to avoid the hot coffee now splattered all over the floor, he, unsurprisingly, glared back. It wasn't a few minutes later that Bucky heard a few clicking sound entering the room ― two pairs of heels actually ― but neither moved to determine who it was. "What's going on here?"

 _Natalia_.

"Dammit, Barton!" Miss Hill bellowed, and Bucky finally allowed himself to look at the whole exchange; Clint looked genuinely surprised at the accusation, gasped and then: " _What_ ― hey, I was just stopping him from drinking anymore coffee, okay, he's like, _addicted_ since Tony introduced the damn thing at breakfast yesterday."

Natasha frowned, but only slightly. "So, you decided to destroy the whole room with the beverage?"

"I didn't― it's not _destroyed_ ― and you, my man," He pointed at Bucky then, pointing his index finger. "It's a good thing you didn't break my arm or I'll swear to God―"

"You can talk to God once you help me clean this mess up," Miss Hill appeared calmer, raising her eyebrows at them ( _particularly_ at Clint, though) and exhaled. From under her breath, Bucky could hear she's muttering, "Wrestling with the effin' Winter Soldier, fucking _superheroes_ ―" before he felt a tug to his hands.

He turned his head only to realise Natalia ― _Natasha_  ― was grasping his hand. "Come on," she said, and her eyes fluttered against her skin, "Let's get you some tea."

"Tea?"

"You'll love them," she hurried out of the room, quietly, silently. Bucky followed, knowing they've been in this pace before, this _routine_ , once upon a time a long moment ago, even if he couldn't possible remember all of it.

"Why is that?" He asked instead, keeping his mind off the subject and focused it wholly on the way her fingers fit perfectly in the space between his, the gentle pressure she puts as she glanced back, and there's an amused glint to her eyes when her mouth curled.

"Because I do."

And Bucky guessed, _well_ , that's good enough of a reason.


	5. glimpses, i'm catching you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Anonymous** asked: "Now where's the fun in that?"

"Now where's the fun in that?"

The second he said it, Natasha closed her eyes and heard him roar. There's a tick to his voice when he said it, when he swung the knife in his hand, that he was not the reformed -Bucky or the decent-Winter Soldier Steve, Tony, Bruce and everyone else had came to accept, no. This was the Winter Soldier which sent a bullet through her body just to complete a mission, the assassin that had Steve's neck in between his grasp, the killer everyone assumed was a ghost.

He was the Winter Soldier, the one Natasha once knew and lost.

The shackle bruised her when she moved, so did the ones they put around her ankle, and she's naked and bloody and for the first time in a long time, she _was_ too drugged to actually be of any help. So she sat there and tried not to let out a whimper when the blood of the man who captured her splattered all over her legs; Natasha slumped lower.

" _Natalia_ ," he called, and Natasha realised then that there's a blanket covering her body and she's in a vehicle somehow, pressed against his chest, cradled in his arm. _Like a child_ , someone hissed with the voice of Ivan, filled with hatred and disgust, perfect in Russian. But Natasha was too weak to fight it off as her head lolled against his shoulder and his breath hit her bare neck. 

"James," she called, and she wanted to say more, _asked_ more, but she couldn't when he only held her tighter, as though if she fell from his hold he'd lost the whole world, and privately, Natasha smiled at that, knowing the soft gestures for even the metal hand meant that this was half-Bucky, and half the man he was trying to be. The _James_ Natasha will learn to trust even more, and if possible, love as well (; _again_ ).

"Thank you," was the only thing she could say, burying her face against the skin where his neck met his collarbone; heard the familiar rhythm of his breathing, the pulse under his skin; time stood still.

She felt him nod just as unconsciousness slipped through her once again. Natasha breathed.


	6. let's blame Hill

"I take it back, this is a terrible idea."

Steve gave Tony an unimpressive look while the billionaire stared back, shrugging his shoulders as if in a way to say _what, it's true, sometimes I can't help it_  while Clint, from Tony's other side, pushed his sunglasses up to his nose. "Don't worry, if anything goes wrong, we could just put the blame on Hill."

Maria Hill, who had been leaning against their motorcycles, glared back, snapping: "I'll poison all of you."

Steve had a momentary moment to think that she might not be kidding while Clint and Tony roared up laughing, amused, and watched as Hill rolled her eyes, excused herself as she drew a pack of cigarettes from her back pocket to smoke elsewhere, knowing neither Steve nor Bucky, who currently was being the subject of all of their attention (or simply the Avenger's new experiment), could take the intoxicated smoke.

Steve returned his attention back at Bucky, who stood there in the middle of the large playground, surrounded by parents and children everywhere; his posture looked stiff, eyes very much aware of his surroundings, but he did not attack, he was not triggered. 

"Okay, I admit." Tony declared again, "Maybe we _should_ have had this run by Bruce before ―"

"You―  _what_ ," Clint gasped, eyes bulging out from behind his dark shades. Honestly, Steve thought, as his fingers began to curl into a fist, punching Tony right now would have been immensely satisfying and very-much-so tempting. He glared at the (older? younger?) other man.

"That's it," Steve decided, "We'll take Bucky home right―"

"Woah, stand down there, Spangles. Look." Tony interjected, humming under his breath and eyes now zeroed in towards Bucky, who was now joined by a familiar red head; Natasha approached, face beautiful and gentle, shoulders relaxed and posture cool. Bucky looked even more tensed, and Steve held his breath for his long-lost best friend.

"James," Steve (using his super-hearing) heard she said when she stood close to him, bright eyes fluttering calmly. 

"Natalia," he called back in a foreign tone, not quite unwelcome, but not entirely friendly either, and something deep in Steve's stomach coiled up, knowing that Natasha had been the cause of his triggers numerous times before. He was getting better, yes, but _still_.

"Come on," she said instead, and daringly fit her hand down his palm, fingers locked in between the spaces of his. "There's a lake," she told, eyes glinting and mouth curling softly into the smallest of smiles, "we could feed the ducks."

She tugged on his hand again, and Steve might have heard Bucky mumbled _okay_ under his breath, stumbling a bit as he followed her lead steadily. Tony exhaled while Clint shrugged his shoulders, "I guess they're going down the lake. I mean, he hasn't gone all _Bucko_ , so that's good right?"

"I-I guess," Steve shrugged, then rolled his shoulders.

"You know what, Boy Scout?" Tony prided himself, "I think it will go extremely well. I'm sure Bruce would be just delighted to hear this very-much good news of our Soldier friend's progress."

He wasn't.

But Bucky _did_ smile that day, just as Natasha would guide his hand to feed the ducks, hesitantly and a little small, but a smile nevertheless. One Steve hadn't seen for a long time and made his chest ached in a way he couldn't accurately describe. But it was good. Because when Bucky smiled, it's a little for himself, for Steve, for Natasha, and for everyone else. And Steve knew this when he caught the other man's eyes, the smile still lingering at the corner of his chapped lips, hand tucked gently under the Widow's.

It was a good day, Steve thought.

They still blamed Hill anyway.


End file.
